


The King of Mars

by Impala_Chick



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Martian - All Media Types
Genre: Allison as a Pilot, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Space, Astronauts, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Stiles, Background Relationships, Epistolary, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Geographical Isolation, IN SPACE!, Isaac as a computer geek, Kira as a Doctor, Lydia as a Scientist, Malia as an engineer, Mars, McCall Pack, NASA, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Science Fiction, Slow Build, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7354996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Chick/pseuds/Impala_Chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles, an astronaut for NASA, is sent on a Mars mission with the rest of McCall's Ares 3 Crew. He expects to be doing botany related experiments for 30 days before heading home, but a deadly sandstorm nearly kills him and forces the crew to leave him on Mars. Stiles fights for survival alone on the red planet using the equipment left behind and his own wit, until Satellite Tech Parrish and Mars Mission Director Dr. Deaton realize that Stiles is still alive. After NASA Director Argent's plan fails, NASA calls on its best scientist, Lydia Martin, to save Stiles. </p><p>A fusion with The Martian (book/movie), featuring video log entries, letters to crew members, science, and spaceships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Evian_Fork for the beautiful artwork! 
> 
> Because this is a fusion with The Martian, there is some first person POV from Stiles' perspective. Slight gore in Chapter 2. Language warning throughout. Explicit sexual content warning for the epilogue.

[](http://tinypic.com?ref=2j2urlt)

As Stiles stepped out of the landing vehicle onto the rocky, red surface of Mars, the toe of his space boot caught on a rock and he stumbled forward. Luckily, hours of training in the space suit kept him from falling flat on his face.

“Nice one, Stiles,” Allison teased over the space suit in-helmet communication system.

“First trip on Mars, I like it,” Scott said as he reached over and slapped Stiles on the shoulder.

“Ya, ya. Don’t you have some other best friend to harass?” Stiles shot back as he swept his arms out to gesture at the wide red expanse. 

“Since we are currently the only people on this entire planet, I’d say there is a low chance that Scott will be able to find another best friend. Unless Isaac is volunteering.” Malia interjected through the comms as Stiles looked up to see that she was the farthest away from the landing vehicle.

“Let’s just enjoy the moment, shall we?” Isaac tried to run to catch up with Malia, but his space boots made it look like he was doing more of an uncoordinated shuffle.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes, Kira!” Scott scolded and Kira laughed softly as she continued walking with Isaac.

Stiles tuned them all out as he finally just stared. The planet was a deep red, like it was made of baked clay. Varying rock formations dotted the surface and the terrain reminded Stiles of the deserts in southern California. The sky was dimly lit and everything seemed to be cast in a faint red glow. Years of planning, months of training, thousands of dollars, and a few million calculations later, here he was 33.9 million miles away from home.

Scott interrupted his thoughts. “You coming, Stiles? We have equipment to set up. There will be plenty of time to admire Mars.” 

“In a minute.” Stiles smiled. Scott was right, they had 30 days to explore. The 124 days space traveling and the descent from their spacecraft in the landing vehicle to the surface of Mars had all been executed textbook-perfectly. Getting here was supposed to be the hard part. The rest should have been gravy.


	2. The Supply Probe

**Log Entry: Sol 6**

I am so fucked. It’s no one’s fault, really. I should be dead. Scott thought I was. Everyone thought I was. And that’s a perfectly good reason to leave me behind. But I’m not dead, so now I have to deal with that reality. Or else I could be dead in the near future. 

Is blood still leaking out of my suit?

I repeat, I’m fucked.

**Log Entry: Sol 6(2)**

Okay, I’ve been taking deep breaths. I stopped my panic attack and my hands have quit shaking. Months and months of proving to NASA that I wasn’t going to have a panic attack on Mars, all for naught. To make up for it, I’m going to make this video log so that years from now when astronauts find this, everyone will know exactly what happened to me. This is for science. 

Time to take stock of what happened. I survived the storm - the one that caused my crew to evacuate - with a hole through my side, but luckily I was bleeding. I say this because my blood must have sealed the breach in my suit. The filter in my suit took out the C02 I was exhaling and kept me alive until the carbon dioxide absorbers reached capacity. Too much oxygen can kill someone too, so the suit automatically started leaking the air (and the excess CO2). I had to rip out the antenna that was stuck in me and seal the hole with an emergency breach kit so that I could get somewhere safe. Very smart of NASA to put those kits on the outsides of our space suits. 

Once I sealed the suit breach, I made my way down a small hill to get to the Hab, our living quarters here on the surface of Mars. It’s a big white monstrosity. After we landed, Scott and Allison spent set two days setting it all up. It’s a completely self-sustaining house, but it looks like an ugly circus tent. I twisted open the door lock, stepped inside the tunnel, and cranked the door shut. The tunnel pressurized and filled with oxygen, so then I could open the airlock and step into the Hab. It took a while, but I wriggled out of my damaged suit and found one of Kira’s medical kits. 

After that came the real tricky part. I stabbed myself with a local anesthetic so that I could surgically staple my wound closed. I’m pretty badass but it still hurt like hell. _Dr. Yukimura_ (she hates it when I call her that) could have done a better job, but it’ll have to do for now.

I’ve been thinking about my situation. The Hab is fully equipped for a 30 day mission with six people. That means I can make it alone in here for 180 days. But what happens in 180 days? The Hermes ship, with my crew onboard, has already left for Earth. The only way to get out of Mars’ atmosphere is to use a Mars Ascent Vehicle - The MAV. The crew took the MAV to get to the Hermes. So I’m stuck here on Mars. On the bright side, I’ve got an entire planet to myself. But the bad news is I’ve got an entire planet to myself.

**Log Entry: Sol 7**

I wonder what they told my dad. I guess I don’t really need to wonder about that at all, because there are only so many ways to say ‘hey, your son is dead.’ I think that’s the worst part about my situation right now. My dad probably feels like I abandoned him, and I can’t do anything about it. There is no way to get word to him. No way to talk to Scott or the rest of the crew. No way to talk to Lydia. They are all probably beating themselves up right now about my sudden death. I need to think about something less depressing.

Back to my food situation. It takes only 7 days for someone to die of dehydration, but the water reclaimer in the Hab should operate just fine for a while. It was designed to last well past mission parameters. It takes about 45 days for someone to starve to death, and I only have food packs for 180 days. I’ve got bottles of vitamins and a few other meds, but those are useless without calories. So on day 225, I’m dead. Unless I can get more food. So much for a less depressing topic.

I’m a botanist, here with no living plants because Mars is a barren wasteland… except, wait a minute. NASA planned for us to have Thanksgiving dinner together. Like, a _real_ thanksgiving dinner. With mashed potatoes. So there are real potatoes in the Hab. I’ve never been so excited about potatoes in my life. 

I’m hatching a plan right now. If Scott were here, he’d probably say that this is a downright crazy idea. 

**Log Entry: Sol 8**

You’re no doubt wondering why NASA spent millions to let a botanist fly to Mars. First, I’d like to point out that I am also a mechanical engineer. Maybe I should have led with that. 

NASA picks astronauts who have two specialties, and those specialties have to be different from the specialties of the rest of the crew. This is done because the crew has to be self-sustaining; we have to be able to solve any and every problem that comes up or we die. So, with varying specialties, hopefully someone will have an idea of what to do when things go wrong. Scott is our Commander, and he is also a geologist. He was supposed to collect soil and rock samples and take them back to Earth. Allison is our pilot, who trained immensely on how to fly the Hermes as well as the MAV. Kira is our flight surgeon and general practitioner, hence why she had several different medical kits with her. Isaac is our systems engineer and computer whiz. He knows the ins and outs of all of the tech aboard the Hermes and within the Hab. Malia is both a chemist and a navigator. She tracks planetary orbits and had several experiments planned out on Mars’ surface. 

As a botanist, I was going to collect samples, look for signs of life, that sort of thing. But now, my mission has changed to something much more important.

I found a shovel and I’ve been transporting Mars dirt into the Hab all day. It’s a long, slow process and I’m not even close to done. I brought some Earth dirt with us to do some experiments, so that dirt should have some bacteria in it. To really get this party started, I can use my own waste which normally gets freeze dried and stored outside the Hab. If can spread the Earth dirt around with the Mars dirt and my own crap (literally), I just might be able to start my own potato farm. The bacteria from the waste will make the Mars dirt viable and fertile farmland, the potatoes will grow, and viola. I’ll have some more much needed calories.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2qb9nxl)

**Onboard the Hermes  
**  
Outside Mars Orbit

_The force of the wind nearly knocked Scott off balance, but he kept pushing forward one foot at a time. He tried to look over his shoulder, but he couldn’t see anything except the blinking lights of space suit helmets._

_“Keep moving!” He shouted through the comms. He felt someone at his elbow, and he turned to see Allison’s face scrunched up in worry._

_“Stiles is missing!” At those three words, Scott’s heart dropped out of his chest and was lost to the howling Mars wind._

_“Get to the MAV and start it up. We’ll be there!” Scott turned back around and followed the bobbing helmet lights. He reached Kira and Isaac and they both shook their heads._

_“Get back to the MAV! I’ll keep looking!” Scott waved them forward before trudging on in the opposite direction. He could only see one more blinking light, which meant Malia was still looking._

_Scott reached her and grabbed her hand. “What happened?” Malia was biting her lip, her face awash with panic._

_“The wind ripped off the satellite dish and it struck Stiles as we were walking, right around here. I saw the antenna pierce him but then he rolled out of sight. All his vitals are at 0.” Malia pointed to the digital display on her arm. She had Stiles’ suit readout pulled up for display, but Scott could barely make out any of the information due to thick sand swirling around with the wind._

_Scott tapped his digital display and pulled up Stiles’ vitals himself. Just zeros._

_He frantically searched the ground around him, Malia at his elbow. But visibility was still next to nothing and the wind was getting louder. What Scott would have given to have superpowers at that moment._

_Allison’s voice came through his helmet, slightly choppy but still understandable._

_“The MAV is tipping, Commander. We have less than five minutes before we need to get the hell off this planet. You need to come back.”_

_Scott took a deep breath, fighting panic. “Malia, go to the MAV.”_

_“But Scott -” Her lashes were wet with tears, but her voice was steady._

_“As your Commander, I am ordering you to go to the MAV.”_

_Malia locked eyes with Scott. By the look on her face, he knew that she had already accepted the truth. Stiles was gone. He waited until she turned around, and then he kept up the search. He tried to swing his legs as far as possible on each step to cover more ground. He swung his helmet in wide arcs to get the light to illuminate the ground, but there were no signs of life._

_“Scott, please. We need you back here,” Allison pleaded with him. Scott knew he couldn’t endanger his whole crew further. He had to go. The readout on his arm had already pronounced Stiles dead._

_After one last look, he trotted to the MAV and jumped onto the stairs. Malia reeled him up and locked the door as he strapped himself in. The tears started to fall before he could help it. Everybody was looking at the empty seat where Stiles should have been strapped in._

_“Commander, I need a verbal order to launch,” Allison said emotionlessly, her whole body stiff as she returned her attention to the controls._

_“Commander -” Allison started again. Scott finally croaked out a response._

_“Do it.”_

Scott suddenly jolted awake in a sweat. He glanced at the digital clock set into the wall next to his bed. It was only 2am Coordinated Universal Time. His brain felt like it was pounding against his skull and he started counting his breaths so that his heart would slow down. His dream was quickly receding, but he could still see Stiles’ face right before they had all walked out of the Hab together to get to the MAV. At least Stiles’ had been smiling then. 

He pulled on a grey sweatshirt that had the NASA logo in the right corner and made his way to the mess. Once he opened the sealed door and walked out of his room, he was weightless. He floated down the hallway, pushing off of walls and hand-holds with well-practiced ease. He reached an intersection and pushed hard so that he would float down through a tunnel that led to the mess. He unlocked the door, slid through, and pulled it shut. 

Allison sat at the kitchen table, holding a steaming mug of something.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Allison observed as Scott approached.

“Everything is so beyond fucked up. I left him,” Scott replied wearily as he scrubbed his hand through his hair and sat down at the table. 

“You had no choice,” Allison offered as a condolence. But Scott couldn’t help but feel that he had made the wrong decision.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=29c53wj)

**Back on Mars  
**  
Log Entry: Sol 16

I’ve cut up all of the potatoes in the Hab and planted the eyes in my carefully mixed soil. Lucky for me it’s actually smelling slightly better in here now that I’ve done that. NASA let us bring whatever digital material we wanted, and we also were able to fit a couple of books into our bags to keep ourselves entertained during down time. I brought all nine Star Wars films, but now I’m bored of them. Shocking, I know.

I found some books Lydia put in my bag for me. If you haven’t heard of her yet, you must have been born in a barn because I’m sure she’s famous by now. She’s a big time NASA engineer, and I feel lucky NASA not only let me be an astronaut, but allowed me to meet Lydia Martin.

But Lydia, really? The Little Mermaid? I’m talking about the Hans Christian Anderson version. “The Original”, as I’m sure Lydia would say. But I’ve got a thing for redheads (I’m sure none of my friends are surprised by that fact), so I’ll give it a shot.

**Log Entry: Sol 17**

Uh, that was creepy as hell, Lydia. Eternal damnation is way too dark of a concept for me to contemplate right now. Don’t worry, I’m not drawing any parallels between the Little Mermaid and my present situation (at least I’m trying not too). I’ve started going through everybody’s stuff to stave off the boredom. Since they left me, I feel like all their stuff is rightfully mine now anyway.

In other news, I’ve got an idea. I’ve been studying the one physical copy of the Mars surface map we have and I’ve been outside to check out the two rovers. They are both looking good, so I think I’m going to take one of them out for a little trip. The rover is a completely self-sustaining system that can filter out CO2 and provide oxygen and water to its inhabitants. Each rover is about the size of a mini-van, so I could bring food and some other things with me. The rovers weren’t made for traveling past 8 hours, so their batteries can only hold a charge for that long. At night, we were supposed to hook the Rovers up to the Hab to charge. But, the Hab is powered by solar panels. If I can figure out a way to rig the solar panels to the rover, I can keep recharging the rover battery away from the Hab. I’ll be working on doing that all day tomorrow, and then maybe I can do some test drives.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zs7lts)

**Johnson Space Center  
**  
Houston, Texas

Jordan Parrish sat down wearily at his desk with a fresh cup of coffee. He had almost nodded off a few times during his night shift, but his boss had reminded him to “stay vigilant”. You never know what could happen on a completely uninhabitable planet. 

Working at NASA was a dream come true, but riding a desk observing satellite images of Mars wasn’t exactly the type of rocket science Parrish was into. When he served in Iraq, he dismantled bombs. He got out of the service to finish his degree in chemical engineering; he was just doing this job until they let him work on rocket fuel. Until then, Parrish spent his time becoming intimately familiar with the topography of Mars.

He had heard about the Ares 3 Crew - Commander McCall’s crew. A massive storm had caused them to abort, and Stilinski did not make it out. Parrish had only spent a few minutes with the crew before they left on their mission, at the Mars send-off party. He remembered Stilinski as an earnest astronaut with a blinding smile. NASA had not taken the news well. This was their third manned mission to Mars, and they figured all the kinks had been worked out by now. 

Parrish typed at his keyboard, directing one of the NASA satellites to take pictures of Mars as it orbited. The computer software collected the images as they were transmitted back to the NASA computers, and Parrish waited for the images to materialize on his screen. Tonight, Parrish was going to be able to examine the sight the Ares 3 crew had abandoned. The current orbits of the satellites around Mars meant he could only get images of the sight every three days, so every three days he was told to examine the images to see if Stilinski’s body was visible. Parrish felt slightly slimy having to do this - his job had turned into a hunt for a dead body.

A grainy satellite image filled his computer screen. He could see the Hab, its distinct hexagon shape and protruding pressure chambers hard to miss. But the Rovers looked odd. Both Rovers were parked away from the Hab, one facing east and one facing west. They were not plugged into the Hab like they should be. The crew was always supposed to plug them in before they returned to the Hab. 

Rapid typing filled the large and nearly empty NASA control room with clacking sounds as Parrish searched for the older images of the Ares 3 sight. He pulled them up, and the Rovers were plugged into the Hab. He checked the date and time stamps, and the Rovers clearly had been moved since the crew had left. He checked the last Mars Surface mission log signed by Commander McCall, and he hadn’t said anything about the Rovers being moved. 

There was only one thing to do. Parrish had to report this to someone above his paygrade. He picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Deaton’s personal number. Dr. Deaton was the Mars Mission Director, and he would want to know about this. 

~~~

Deaton stormed through the building, still in his pajamas. He jogged down the stairs to get to the control room. The soft glow of computer screens illuminated the Mars command room as he greeted Parrish. 

“Show me,” was all he had to say before Parrish’s fingers scurried across his keyboard. He pulled up two satellite images side by side, and Deaton immediately saw what Parrish had been talking about. The Rovers had been moved, and they had been moved _after_ the Ares 3 crew had departed from Mars in the MAV. 

“He’s alive. Stiles is Alive!” Deaton could barely believe his eyes. “I need to get Argent on the phone, now.” 

~~~ 

Deaton pulled open the door to the conference room and smoothed down his tie. He had thrown on clothes that had been lying around his office because he hadn’t gone home after finding out about Stiles. 

“Gerard. I hope you understand what we have to do.” Deaton got straight to the point without acknowledging the third man in the room. Gerard held up his hand.

“I know that we probably should not tell the Ares 3 Crew. I also know that we need to spin this to the press as soon as possible. Then we need to make a plan. Only after that can we get Stilinski.” 

Deaton rolled his eyes. “You realize he only has enough food to last 180 days? Getting a probe to Mars takes 162 days. And we don’t currently have a probe ready to launch.”

“Deaton, I understand that. But as I’m sure you are aware, we just had the man’s funeral service. We need to handle this carefully. We need to be sure. I called Finstock here to keep him in the loop.”

“Uh, all due respect, Mr. Argent. But my crew deserves to know. Scott deserves to know. They will want to help,” Finstock said forcefully before tucking a pen behind his ear and crossing his arms.

“And that’s exactly the problem, Finstock. You can’t tell them until we have a rescue plan.” Gerard stood up from his desk and leaned forward, clearly attempting to intimidate the other man.

Finstock snorted in indignation, but conceded the point. “Fine, but as soon as we have something, I’m calling Scott.”

Deaton interjected. “We should at least tell Lydia. She should know that we need her help. We also need to let Parrish use all satellites to monitor Stiles.” 

Gerard nodded. “Good. I’ll have Danny Mahealani speak to the press. Deaton, work with Lydia and the Jet Propulsion Lab to get something going. Remember, time is of the essence.”

~~~

Deaton knocked softly on Lydia’s office door before walking in. Her normally immaculate work space was cluttered with folders, books and coffee cups. Dark circles under her eyes indicated she hadn’t slept well in weeks. She looked up as he entered, but only offered a small smile. Deaton had never been so excited to give someone good news.

“Lydia, you need to listen to me very carefully. We have evidence that Stiles is alive.” Deaton held up his tablet, showing her the images.

She blinked at him, but slowly her disbelief melted away as she read the time stamps out loud. 

“But, his suit vitals readout was...?” Lydia asked, still stunned by the news. 

“We don’t know how he’s alive. But we need to figure out how to rescue him. He needs you to bring him back, Lydia.” 

She pushed herself out of her chair by her fingertips before she squared her shoulders, resolve hardening her facial features. Deaton smiled. Lydia Martin was back.

~~~ 

Parrish had been tracking Stiles every day, nearly 24 hours a day. He had taken to sleeping on a cot in the break room while Stiles slept on Mars. Danny, the Press Secretary for NASA, had been coming in every other day to get updates or pictures for the news reports and Deaton wanted all images forwarded directly to his computer. All the pressure made Parrish feel much more important, but he worried about Stiles. After tracking his movements for a week, Parrish felt like he knew the guy. And Stiles was definitely an interesting guy.

At the beginning of the previous week, Stiles moved stuff in and out of the Rovers for a couple of days. Then, he slept in the Rover one night, likely to test his modifications. Now, Stiles was on the move. He had been traveling for three days. At night, he would drive for 6 hours or so, swap batteries, and drive for 6 more hours. During the day, he would spread out solar panels and sleep in the Rover. Parrish couldn’t imagine what Stiles was trying to do, but Deaton would always ask him if he had any ideas nonetheless. 

Tonight as usual, Deaton stood next to Parrish, staring at Stiles’ trajectory. Suddenly Deaton’s eyes lit up, and clapped his hands and started backing out of the room, motioning for Parrish to follow.

“There’s a Mars map in the break room, right?” Deaton said somewhat offhand as he turned and entered the break room.

“Ya, not sure how accurate it is though,” Parrish offered as Deaton pulled the map down from the wall and produced a blue 12 inch ruler from his pocket.

Deaton then pulled the black permanent marker from where it was perched behind his ear and marked an X where Parrish knew the Hab was located. Then, Deaton started placing dots at the locations where Stiles had stopped each night. He used the ruler to connect the dots, and stepped back.

“Ah ha! I knew it. He’s on his way to Pathfinder. Get me a phone!”

Parrish was impressed. He had forgotten all about NASA’s very first mission to Mars. The Pathfinder unit and connected Sojourner Rover had gone dark in 1997, before Parrish was even born. He hurried out of the room to find a phone while Deaton followed him out, shouting excitedly. 

“We need to call the original Pathfinder crew. They need to get the old Pathfinder replica online. We may be able to communicate with Stiles!”

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=29c53wj)

**Log Entry: Sol 58**

I finally made it back to the Hab with Pathfinder. It was not easy pulling it out of the sand, but the Rover drove like a champ. Well done, NASA. 

I cleaned all the dirt off of Pathfinder and plugged it in. Going by all the whirring noises, it was booting up. I’ve made signs so that NASA can use the pathfinder’s camera to talk to me. It’s going to be a slow conversation, considering it takes 13 minutes for a signal to travel from Mars to Earth . But I am dying to talk to someone. Anyone. I’d even willingly talk to Gerard at this point.

**Log Entry: Sol 59**

It worked! After a long day of making paper signs, I figured out a system to communicate with NASA. I wrote out hexadecimals on paper signs, and NASA controlled the Pathfinder camera to spell out messages. With hexadecimals, we don’t have to go one letter at a time. There are only 16 symbols in the hexadecimal “alphabet”, but NASA can say a lot more much more quickly. They said they are going to transmit a code tomorrow so I can get the Pathfinder to communicate with the Rover. I told them about my crops, but it’s hard to judge their reaction given they could only communicate via hexadecimals. 

I think tonight is going to be the first night I get to sleep all the way through. I feel like I have a chance now, like maybe this will work out. I believe they call this “hope”, otherwise known as Scott’s favorite emotion. 

Just kidding, Scott.

**Log Entry: Sol 60**

I’ve been inputting code all day and staring at a computer screen. My eyes feel fatigued, like I don’t even want to keep them open. I wonder if this is how Isaac feels all the time. NASA was able to communicate with the Rover through Pathfinder, and they were trying to sync the two systems. I should be able to receive email by tomorrow. I can’t help but be selfish right now - I’m hoping I get to read letters from Lydia and Scott and Allison and my dad and everyone else, who are no doubt marveling at my space skills. 

Because you have to admit, my space skills are awesome. Even Lydia would have to agree with that.

**Log Entry: Sol 61**

[11:18] JPL: Dr. Deaton here, Stiles. Good job inputting the code. Glad you are alive. We are coordinating a probe mission to drop supplies to you at your current location. That way, you can survive before the Ares 4 crew comes to Mars in 600 days. They will be able to do a short overland flight to rendezvous with you and then bring you with them to their objective, Schiaparelli crater. 

[11:31] PATHFINDER: Fantastic. Awesome. This Mars vacation has not exactly been good to my skin, as was promised, so I’ll be glad to get back to a more stable atmosphere. Also, “Hi, Dad!” And what did Scott say when he found out? Is he totally beating himself up? You can tell him he owes me. 

[11:44] JPL: How are you still alive? What is the status of your “crops”? Also, we have not told your crew as we feel it will damage morale. They have a mission to concentrate on. 

[11:57] PATHFINDER: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU

[12:10] JPL: Stiles, please. Your transmissions are being broadcast live.

[12:23] PATHFINDER: Well, I hope you at least told Lydia. You should ask her to help. As for my potatoes, I’ve grown more from the ones sent up for Thanksgiving. I’ve run out of space in the Hab to grow more. And I will run out of water eventually. I should be able to make it to Sol 900.

[12:36] JPL: Tomorrow you can go over the specifics with us and we will have our botanists double check all of your work. There is no room for error. Also, Lydia knows. She says hello. 

[12:49] PATHFINDER: Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deaton. Hi, Lyds.

P.S. Tell my crew that they shouldn’t feel guilty about me.

**Log Entry: Sol 62**

Clearly I spoke too soon when I said I’d literally talk to anybody, because I’m sick of Deaton. He has not gotten off my case about the potatoes and we’ve been over and over my methods all day. Give me some credit, NASA. I’m the best botanist on this whole planet. 

Dr. Morell, NASA’s shrink, has officially recommended that I write letters to all of my crewmates so that I can get out of my own head. Not sure what she can understand about me from just a few pathfinder transmissions, but I’m doing it in the hopes that I get to speak with everyone soon.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2qb9nxl)

**Onboard the Hermes  
**  
Traveling through Space

All around Isaac’s head he could hear the sounds of the ship. The soft whirs and clicks signaled that everything was working properly. He smiled slightly before hauling himself up off his bunk to check the command center. As the systems engineer, it was his job to ensure that the computers kept the ship on the right course for Earth. It was also his job to disseminate the mail every day when NASA sent the communication transmission. Since the computers could manage themselves, he was really a glorified mailman. Unless something were to go wrong, of course.

Ever since they had left Mars (and Stiles), a quiet but disturbing melancholy had fallen over the ship. Scott refused to smile and Allison would only speak a handful of words at a time. The mail dump used to be a happy occasion before they lost Stiles, but now it just put everyone on edge. Mrs. McCall would always ask Isaac to keep an eye on Scott, but Isaac honestly had no idea what Scott was feeling. Mr. Argent acted cagey whenever he talked to Allison and she always commented on how something was off. None of them had even attempted to talk to Sheriff Stilinski yet - they didn’t know what they could possibly say. 

Isaac knew that Stiles was the glue that held everyone together, even Kira and Malia. Everyone drifted around the spaceship like zombies, completing day to day chores. Isaac felt lost, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk. And he hated to admit it, but not being able to tease Stiles in the mess or work on the latest crossword with him left Isaac feeling hollow. He had attempted to keep up his and Stiles’ old habit, but Allison said the crossword takes too long and Scott was just not in the mood.

He signed on from where he sat at his stool. The blue computer screen beeped at him before lighting up. Immediately, large block letters greeted him.

_OPEN ASAP

_VIDEO MESSAGE TO: ARES 3 CREW

It was unusual for the whole crew to receive a message. Isaac figured NASA must have some sort of flight update or maybe they wanted to change someone’s onboard experiments. At any rate, this type of message required the presence of the whole crew.

Isaac grabbed his headset to broadcast a message through the onboard P.A. 

“Commander McCall, NASA sent a message for Ares 3.” 

After a moment of pause, likely the time Scott needed to put on his headset, Scott’s voice came over the P.A.

“Ares 3, report to the deck.”

Isaac ditched his headset to go to the flight deck. He brought up the video on the larger screen in the biggest room of the ship, and nodded at Scott as he walked in. 

“Who’s it from?” Scott asked, as Allison and Kira joined him.

“Looks like it’s from our Flight Director,” Isaac mused as he pointed. An image of Finstock’s face filled the screen.

“Smartass.” Malia rolled her eyes as she walked in.

“So odd,” Kira said, shaking her head.

“Well, let’s play it,” Scott said as he got out a pen and a small notebook from his pocket to take notes. Isaac appreciated his leadership ability but the man was definitely a nerd.

Isaac clicked the play button, and Finstock’s booming voice filled the room.

“Hey Ares 3. I know you guys have been through some shit, but I’ve got some news so perk up. I haven’t been able to tell you this because we have some higher-ups who are real dickwads, and I think you know what I mean. It’s ok now, because we have a plan. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests. Perhaps it’s fate that today is the 4th of July and you will once again be fighting for our freedom. Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution, but from annihilation. We’re fighting for our right to live, to exist.” 

Isaac groaned and gave Scott the side-eye. He had absolutely no idea where Finstock was going with this, and it looked like Scott didn’t either. 

“Stiles is alive, you guys. HE IS ALIVE. And we’re going to send a supply probe to him to keep him alive until Ares 4 goes out there to get ‘em.”

It was as if the air was sucked out of the room. Isaac couldn’t breathe. He might have suspected that he had dreamed the transmission, but he heard Scott’s pen and notepad hit the floor. Malia whooped and Kira clapped and cheered as she hugged Scott. Allison looked dumbfounded before she embraced Scott too.

With all of the celebrating, they almost missed the rest of Finstock’s message.

“...so he’s written you all letters. And they are _darling_. I’m sure Isaac can distribute them. And then Isaac should work on helping us get communication setup with Pathfinder so you guys can talk to him directly. And he’s said repeatedly that he doesn’t blame any of you for what happened. So sleep well tonight, everyone! I have to brief Commander Hale and the rest of Ares 4 about Stiles tonight, so that should be interesting.” 

With one last smile at the camera and a wave, Finstock signed off. 

Isaac pulled Scott into a hug, and Scott was visibly shaking. Isaac patted him on the shoulder, but then turned back to the computer. As promised, Stiles’ letters were waiting in the flight inbox. Isaac’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he distributed the letters to each person’s individual inbox, and then the crew quickly retreated to their rooms. Just as they had dealt with grief in their own way, so too would they all deal with joy differently. But Isaac was hopeful that tonight would finally be different. Tonight, the crew could be happy with each other, instead of bitter and sorrowful. 

He pulled up his own letter after everyone walked out of the room.

_Dear Isaac:_

_Remember that time we were locked in the vomit comet together during training? I seriously tried to puke on you. That’s how much I liked you when I met you. But you have to give me some credit, I’ve really come a long way since then._

_I know your life was never easy, and I truly respect everything you’ve accomplished. I can’t really remember when you weren’t a part of our crew. Ok, enough with the sappy stuff. Stop rolling your eyes._

_You still have that sweet leather jacket? I think a 70s biker gang called and they want their clothes back. Hope you’re being good to Scott, since he cannot get by without a wingman. I’m serious._

_Save some crosswords for me, because this planet’s internet blows and I haven’t been able to play._

_Also, talk to Allison. Her bark is worse than her bite. Unless you’re into that sort of thing._

_-Stilinski_

Isaac smiled and thought, some things never change. Stiles had always been good at reading the crew, Isaac included.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zs7lts)

**Johnson Space Center  
**  
Houston, Texas

The Mars Command center bustled with people, none of whom knew how to whisper. The noise would have bothered Danny except it was always like this before a launch. Danny paced in the back, silently willing for everything to go as planned. He nodded at Dr. Deaton when he walked in. Dr. Deaton headed straight to Parrish, who was hunched over his computer scanning satellite images. Argent walked in and took a seat on the upper deck of the command center. He crossed his legs and steepled his fingers and Danny couldn’t help but think the guy was seriously creepy. Not the nicest thing to think about your boss, but then again Danny wasn’t the nicest guy. He could leave the niceties to Parrish, who was currently furrowing his brow and typing furiously.

Dr. Deaton made his way over to Danny and nervously clapped him on the shoulder. Danny handed him two folders, one red and one blue. Dr. Deaton opened the blue one and flipped through the prepared speech.

“Let’s hope I get to use this one,” Deaton commented as he kept staring at the pages.

The red folder contained the speech that Deaton would have to give if the mission failed. Danny had injected plenty of hope in the speech, but he didn’t believe much of his own rhetoric. If this probe didn’t launch correctly, they were not going to be able to get food to Stiles. Period. He would either have to pull another miracle out of his ass and grow more food, or starve to death way before Ares 4 made it to him. NASA was out of resources, and building a whole new supply probe would take too long. 

“Let’s hope,” Danny agreed.

“Settle down, everyone,” Argent spoke loud enough for people to hear him and the room immediately clammed up. The noise level dropped just as Danny noticed Lydia walk into the room. She smiled faintly at him, but looked distracted. Lydia hadn’t taken the news of Stiles’ death very well, and she also seemingly hadn’t taken the news of his survival very well either. Danny knew this because she was wearing the same skirt and tights she had been wearing yesterday. And Lydia Martin never wore the same outfit two days in a row if she could possibly help it. She must not have slept last night. 

Danny turned his attention back to the screen as the Probe commander started the countdown. 

“10.” Danny watched as plumes of white smoke came out from under the probe. 

“9.” The whole room sucked in a collective breath. Danny glanced over at Gerard, who was smiling.

“8.” Lydia was wringing her hands, but Danny thought better of going over to comfort her. 

“7.” Dr. Deaton stood at attention, his eyes glued to the screen. 

“6.” Danny was reminded how everything was out of their hands at this point, and couldn’t help but feel small at that thought.

“5.” _C’mon, c’mon_ , Danny pleaded.

“4.” _Oh, take off already._

“3.” Danny started pacing again, because watching was too nerve racking.

“2.” Danny held his breath.

“1. Liftoff.” The probe and its rockets took off from the launch pad. A large cheer went up from the command center, but Deaton wasn’t cheering. Danny watched as the rocket veered slightly to the right.

“What’s happening?” Argent said as he stood up. The probe commander told Argent the rocket was off course but they were trying to fix it. A hush fell over the room. Parrish stood up, his hand over his mouth.

Danny could hardly believe his eyes. The probe started to disintegrate midair, and the whole room gasped in shock. Danny searched for Lydia, but she had already fled the room. Danny immediately regretted his negative thoughts earlier.

With a heavy sigh, Danny reached out and gently took the blue folder from Deaton’s hand. Time to think of a plan B.


	3. The Martin Maneuver

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2qb9nxl)

**Onboard the Hermes**

When Malia heard the news that Stiles was alive, she couldn’t help but feel responsible. He was her partner; they sat next to each other on every practice mission, their seats were next to each other in the launch vehicle, they were supposed to walk back to the MAV together the night of the storm. Stiles had been with her through all of the difficult training and had told her she could do it even when she felt like giving up. He was her beacon of hope, and she had ditched him on Mars. 

She wondered if Stiles thought that way of her. She felt slightly nauseous at the thought of reading an angry letter, the words “quitter” and “fuck up” swirling through her head. She and Stiles had dated on and off during flight training, but Malia knew that Stiles’ heart belonged to someone else. Scott sat them both down and cleared the air before they left for Mars. He had told them he needed them both, and that he wanted them to be able to fully trust each other. Stiles had readily agreed to Scott’s terms, but Malia had been hesitant. Being locked in a spaceship with someone you used to be in love with all the way to Mars and back hadn’t exactly filled her with excitement. But, she had realized that Stiles was her anchor in a lot of ways. He helped keep her grounded even if they weren’t having sex anymore. She could go to him with problems and he would gladly help her. Stiles had always been a true friend, even before Malia knew what that meant.

When she sat at her computer and opened his letter, she silently wished Stiles was there to put her nerves at ease. 

_Dear Malia:_

I might not be the best with words, but I know you’ll appreciate my effort here. It’s a good thing Scott made us a part of his crew, because I think we both needed this. To be a critical piece in something so much bigger than ourselves. Everything changed when we had a common goal and we were working together to get to Mars.

So don’t feel bad about leaving me here. You didn’t know I was alive. It would have been impossible for you to know anyway. I’m serious, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon and we’ll eat pizza on Earth and talk about about how your experiments went. 

I hope you learned so many new things. I’m especially curious about the electricity one, with the light bulbs. 

It’s okay if everything didn’t go as planned; Control is overrated.

\- Stiles

Malia couldn’t help but grin as the tension leaked from her body. Someone knocked softly at her door, and she looked up to see Kira standing in the doorway. 

Kira was rubbing at her right arm, and she looked shy, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to ask what she wanted to ask.

“Hey, Malia. I didn’t want to read this by myself. Can I sit with you?” 

“Of course,” Malia instantly answered. She surprised herself with her response, but she and Kira were a lot closer than they had been when the mission started.

Kira clicked open the letter on her tablet and sat on Malia’s bunk. Malia climbed on the bed to cross her legs next to Kira.

_Dear Kira:_

_Remember during our first test flight as a team, and we were flying over Florida? Allison had everything under control, and then all of a sudden the craft started violently shaking and we immediately prepared for emergency landing? I was so scared that when we landed I tried to get out of the craft as fast as possible and hit my head on the door. Good thing we can definitely laugh about it now._

_I was so embarrassed I tried to sneak away. But the part that I really remember is you busting out the first aid kit and wielded it like you were a warrior with a sword. You would not let me walk away without first taking care of it. That’s when I knew I could trust you. Thanks for sticking with us even when it might have been easier for you to just walk away and take that cushy Doctor job in New Mexico. I know your mom was hoping you would go._

_Also, you better talk to Scott about how you feel. I’m not saying everything will work out, but maybe it will._

_\- Stiles_

“He’s a good guy,” Kira whispered to Malia. 

“Ya, he is,” Malia agreed. She hugged Kira. The letters proved that Stiles was still alive to them, and Malia was silently thinking that she would do anything to get Stiles back.

“Also, I can totally pretend like I didn’t see that part about Scott,” Malia added, teasing.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zs7lts)

**Johnson Space Center  
**  
Houston, Texas

Gerard Argent was having one of those days. Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it. Letting Stiles die would just be bad PR. Not to mention bad politics. At this point, Gerard was considering ordering the Hermes to turn back, but that would basically be a suicide mission and his granddaughter might not make it. Actually risking life and limb for another astronaut was usually not worth it, as Gerard had been taught after years of training and failed missions.

He considered his options while gazing out the huge glass windows of his office. He considered calling his son Chris, but the man was more of a follower than a leader and Gerard did not have time for another lecture about Chris’ inability to appreciate Gerard’s called “tough love” treatment of Allison.

His desk phone started to ring and Gerard glanced over at the caller ID. It was an international number originating from CNSA, the Chinese version of NASA. As Gerard reached over to pick up the phone, a million possibilities went through his head. But what the caller ultimately had to say shocked him. The Chinese were offering help. They were offering to work with NASA to help get Stiles back.

What a perfect confluence of events. There would be both financial and political gain from a deal like this. A year ago, China would never have offered to share their expensive space probe. Now, they were giving it willingly, as long as one of their own could go up with the Ares 4 and Commander Hale. Gerard would have to thank Stiles later. 

Right now, he needed to call Deaton.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2qb9nxl)

**Onboard the Hermes**

Allison sat in Scott’s room, her hand on his knee. They both brought their tablets to Stiles’ room, knowing that neither wanted to be alone when they read Stiles’ words. Scott had been devastated when they left Mars, and his mood had never really changed. Allison felt like all the warmth of Scott’s personality had been left behind on the desert planet. 

For her, nothing was real without proof. These letters Stiles wrote were real; they meant that he could be saved. It was now their duty to rescue their crew mate. They would find a way because that’s what just the McCall crew did.

She hoped the letter had reached Scott in time for him to realize that it wasn’t too late. That he could do something. She watched his face while he read. 

_Dear Scott:_

I think you know what I’m about to say. If I don’t make it, you’ve got to take care of my dad for me. He’s going to be so alone and he’s going to need your strength. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t ask anyone else to do this for me.

My situation is pretty stable right now, but I’m worried about food. It’s nice to be able to talk to Deaton and NASA, but they haven’t put Lydia through yet. And it would be better if I could talk to you in person. Deaton will not shut up about my potatoes. He says I have to keep “believing” or something? But I don’t think I’m going to be able to will my way out of this one. 

I hope you still have that old lacrosse stick from college. When I get back to Earth, I’m going to whoop you at Lacrosse. And it’s going to be glorious. 

I love you, man.

\- Stiles

Stiles laughed as his eyes lit up. And Allison knew Stiles had said exactly the right thing. Stiles must not be angry with them anymore. Or if he was, he had hid it well. Stiles was smart, she would give him that. She turned to her own letter, bolstered by the way Scott had responded to Stiles’ words.

_Dear Allison: ___

_I hope you’re keeping the crew in line. You were always cool under pressure, and I suspect that everyone appreciated that when you all had to leave Mars._

_If I don’t get back to Earth, you’ve got to check in on Lydia for me. Tell her all the things I feel for her or tell her nothing, that’s up to you. I trust you to make that call. Maybe she’ll even accept your efforts to help her - that’s why I’m asking you to do this. Besides, when push comes to shove you are going to know what the crew has to do. Don’t hesitate if it means all of your lives or just mine._

_Also, I never said this to you before but I really was rooting for you and Scott. Even if you guys never work out, I hope you know that._

_\- Stiles_

Allison quickly shut her tablet, glad that Stiles knew her well enough to know that she could make hard decisions. She suspected she should thank Gerard for that ability. But she had already left Stiles behind once; she wouldn’t be doing that again. There was no _us_ or _him_ anymore; there was just _crew_. She would follow wherever Scott led them if it meant getting Stiles back.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2zs7lts)

**Johnson Space Center  
**  
Houston, Texas

Lydia checked her equations again. and again. Her calculations were right. They _had_ to be. Stiles’ life depended on it. 

This idea had come to her soon after the first probe had blown up. She thought she had hit rock bottom, and she could barely breathe after she watched those probe shards skate across the sky. But then Deaton had told her that the Chinese were offering up their probe to get Stiles some food. The problem was, the probe only could hold a finite payload. And if it didn’t make it all the way to the surface of Mars, Stiles would surely die. The risk of failure was too great and the consequences were too high, especially after witnessing the first probe explode.

She finished sketching out a colored map of her plan with the office phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder.

“Deaton? I need to have a meeting. Right now. With Gerard. Make it happen.” Lydia didn’t wait for him to respond. She returned the phone to its cradle and grabbed her folders and colored charts. It felt like Stile’s life was about to ride on the outcome of this one meeting, and she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her body. She couldn’t think about anything else except her plan – she rehearsed her speech over and over in her head as she headed to the Command Center.

Parrish sat alone in the room, scrolling through satellite images.

“Parrish. Have you seen Deaton?” She asked him as she approached, her arms full. Parrish spun around in his chair, appraising her. 

“Got enough stuff?” He asked with a smile. But the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. She could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well either because the dark circles under his eyes matched hers.

“I’ve got an idea. Come help me,” she commanded as she handed him a stack of papers. She turned on her heel to leave the room, sure that Parrish would follow her.

“We are going to get Stiles back,” she said over her shoulder as they headed for Gerard’s office. 

“Finally,” was all she heard Parrish mutter as he caught up with her.

They reached Gerard’s office, and Parrish held the door for her. She burst in, and she had an audience waiting. Good.

“Put that stuff on the table, Parrish,” Lydia instructed as she unfurled the largest of her maps. 

“Here’s the short version -” she started to say as Gerard stepped out from behind his desk. Deaton sat on the couch in Gerard’s office, and Finstock was pacing by the table. 

“We can get Stiles back. With the probe and the Hermes.”

They all turned to stare at her. She rushed forward without taking a breath.

“The Hermes will be in a range where it can slingshot away from Earth using Earth’s orbit and head back to Mars. At the point before it heads off in the opposite direction, away from Earth, it can rendezvous with the Chinese probe and resupply. They’ll have enough at that point, at ¾ rations each, to make it all the way to Mars and back. Once they reach Mars, Stiles can meet them just on the outside of Mar’s orbit. They rescue him and they head around Mars to come back to Earth. Simple.” 

Gerard gaped at her, surprised and seemingly slightly annoyed.

“But how can Stiles get off the surface of Mars?” Deaton asked, getting up from the couch to look at her chart.

“The Ares 4 MAV is still on the surface of Mars. He can use that.”

“But that’s only designed to breach Mars’ atmosphere. This chart says he has to go farther than that to reach the Hermes in time for them to get him,” Deaton continued as he examined Lydia’s chart.

“We’ll strip it. We can have him strip the MAV of all but the essentials, and its weight will allow it to travel farther.” Lydia tried to keep her voice steady, but she felt like she was losing her audience already.

“It’s called the Martin maneuver, and it’s going to work. It’s our last best chance,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster, crossing her arms and looking to Parrish for confirmation. He nodded, encouraging her.

“I know the crew would do it,” Finstock offered, also looking at the charts.

“We would be putting the whole crew at risk. And we only have _one_ Chinese probe. If this doesn’t work, everything will be lost. And the Ares 4 mission will be significantly delayed,” Gerard mused, sitting back down in his char. He seemed to have made his decision.

“If the Chinese probe doesn’t make it to Mars, we are also screwed,” Deaton pointed out. “But to make this work, Stiles would still have to make it all the way to the Ares 4 MAV, which is a very grueling 90 day journey.”

Gerard swiftly cut off the conversation before Lydia could explain anything further.

“We will still be able to get the rest of Ares 3 back safely, and Commander Hale’s crew can proceed as planned. So no, nice work Lydia, but we can’t do this,” Gerard said dismissively. 

Lydia knew that when Gerard made up his mind, there was going to be no convincing him. But she glanced at Parrish and figured there had to be another way to make this happen. She would go over Gerard’s head if she had to. She knew that her plan was the only plan that could work. 

She sent one last pleading look at Deaton, but he shook his head. She wasn’t getting any more support from this room. 

“C’mon, Parrish,” Lydia clipped angrily as she gathered up her materials. He stooped to help her, his face confused. He must have been surprised that she would give in so easily, but she wasn’t giving in. She was changing tactics.

“Leave the calculations,” Deaton said as she stood up to stop them. Maybe she did have an ally. She and Parrish took their leave as Finstock started to argue with Gerard. Lydia knew the crew would not hesitate to rescue Stiles, and Finstock was telling Gerard precisely that. 

Once they were back in Lydia’s office, she closed and locked the door.

“Okay, what are you thinking?” Parrish implored, his hands on his hips. 

“Parrish, I need you to promise me you can keep a secret. And then I need you to do me a favor,” Lydia proceeded gently, knowing that she was asking a lot. 

“Of course. If it’s for Stiles, we should do it,” Parrish offered easily in response. 

“I need you to send the code for the Martin Maneuver to Ares 3. Through a secure channel. Isaac will be able to read it. And once they decide to do it, Gerard will have to support them or publicize a mutiny, which is the last thing he will want to do,” Lydia whispered conspiratorially.

“So you’re asking me to basically disobey a direct order?” Parrish’s voice was edged with hesitation.

“Gerard didn’t say we couldn’t send the code, exactly.” Lydia raised her eyebrows, daring Parrish to do the right thing.

His face slowly broke into a smile. She knew she had him then. 

“Good point. Give me a minute.” He grabbed the flash drive she handed him, and headed out of the room. Lydia finally breathed a sigh of relief.

_We’re coming for you, Stiles. Just hold on._

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2qb9nxl)

**Onboard the Hermes**

Isaac’s computer beeped at him insistently. How odd. It was too early for the normal data dump from NASA. He paused the systems check he was running, and scooted over on his swivel chair to the smaller computer screen. He had a message waiting for him and the signature made it look like it was from a personal computer on Earth. It was labeled “Vacation Pictures”. Someone must have masked the IP address, because there was no way a personal computer could take advantage of NASA communication systems. Isaac hesitated, but he clicked it open anyway.

A long series of coded equations illuminated the screen, and Isaac scrolled through it. He recognized Earth’s gravitational force equations as well as the trajectory of the Hermes. When he waded through the math, he realized what had just landed in his lap. A blueprint to save Stiles. 

As if there was any doubt, the end of the message made it all clear.

_THE MARTIN MANEUVER 

Isaac whooped out loud before sending the message to everyone’s computers. He jammed his headset over his hair before he unlocked the hatch to the computer systems room and floated out into the hallway. He pulled the hatch shut and pushed off the walls to glide down the hallway to the mess.

“Everyone needs to meet in the mess right now.” Isaac did his best imitation of Scott’s Commander voice.

“No offense, Scott,” Isaac offered as an afterthought. He thought this occasion definitely warranted his decision to go over Scott’s head. 

“This better be good, Isaac,” Scott growled at him when he got to the mess. Scott was already seated at the table, pathetically stirring his spoon through his wetted down and formerly freeze-dried cereal.

“Dude, you need to cheer up because I’ve got some great news,” Isaac said triumphantly as he ripped his headset from his head and tossed it onto the table. 

He waited impatiently for everyone else to shuffle in. He smiled and held up a finger, signaling everyone to wait while he pulled up the equations on the mess computer.

“Ta da!” His arms were open wide, framing the screen like a model showing off a product for a commercial.

Blank stares and some blinking was all he got in response. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Lydia has calculated a new route for us. The Hermes can slingshot around Earth, rendezvous with a Chinese probe to resupply, and then travel back to Mars to pick up Stiles just outside Mars’ atmosphere,” Isaac quickly explained. His words evoked gasps from the crew.

“So we can rescue Stiles ourselves?” Allison was gleeful. 

Scott opened and closed his mouth a few times before he asked, “Is Lydia sure about this?” 

“Yes. I should add that NASA turned down her idea and she sent it to us anyway. She disobeyed an order.” Isaac scratched the back of his head, wincing at the anticipated angry outburst from Scott. But this was about saving Stiles, and Isaac realized no price would be too high to Scott.

Scott surprised no one when he started laughing with excitement.

“If Lydia’s in, I’m in. Obviously. We’ll take a vote,” Scott said as he looked around the room at his crewmates. 

“There will be consequences for mutiny. I don’t want anyone to feel pressured, so-” Scott began an attempt to call for a secret ballot, but Isaac was sure that wasn’t necessary.

“I can reroute the computers manually to slingshot past Earth and get him. This is going to work. I’m in,” Isaac raised his hand, and everyone else did the same. Isaac nodded. This is why he had gone to space with these people. They were all brave, stupid, selfless heroes. He could live with that.

“Alright then, Isaac? Do it. Tell NASA we’re commandeering this ship.” Scott slammed his fist on the table to signal the meeting adjourned. 

Everyone clapped and exclamations of jubilation followed Isaac out of the room as he headed for the systems room. He manually reset the trajectory of the Hermes, and then sent a simple message to NASA.

_NASA, BE ADVISED.

_LYDIA MARTIN IS ONE BADASS BITCH.

_ARES 3 OUT.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=29c53wj)

**On the Surface of Mars  
**  
Log Entry: Sol 120

[1:01] JPL: Stiles, we need you to get to the Ares 4 MAV. The Hermes is coming to rescue you.

[1:14] PATHFINDER: HALLELUJAH. 

[1:27] JPL: We are sure you can use the modified rover to get there. The trip will take 90 days. Once there, you can communicate with us via the MAV computer system. You’ll have to shut the Pathfinder down and get there sans communication.

[1:40] PATHFINDER: Oh, no. What ever will I do without you, Deaton?

[1:53] JPL: Just get there in time.

[2:06] PATHFINDER: Don’t worry guys, I’ve still got Scott’s music to keep me company.

**Log Entry: Sol 121**

I have 90 days to make it across Mars via the most epic road trip ever. The rover isn’t the jeep, but I think she’ll get me there. I spent all day yesterday and today packing my gear, the water filtration system, and the oxygenator. I’ve got the rovers hitched up, and I’m setting out first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be offline for the entire trip, so I’m crossing all my fingers and toes. And I’ll keep on “believing”, Deaton. Don’t worry. 

The path to get to the MAV requires me to go through Schiaparelli crater, which means even rockier terrain than what I’ve driven on before. There is also the chance of wind storms. And of course any one of my machines could malfunction and then I could die. 

This oughta be fun.

**Log Entry: Sol 142**

Something went wrong, imagine that. I entered the lip of the crater going too fast, and then I must have hit a rock. A ROCK nearly killed me.

My rover flipped onto its side, and the hitch to the second rover broke off. Everything looked really terrible, but then I used rope to pull my rover back upright. I had to fashion a janky hitch out of some extra material, but I’m going to be able to get back on the road again. Good thing I kept my space suit on. 

I was able to check all systems and everything is still operational. My space suit reeks with B.O., but other than that I think I’m okay. 

I’ll be there, Hermes.

**Log Entry: Sol 210**

I made it, and right on time too. Plus, the MAV computer worked and is fully operational. That’s the good news.

The bad news is, once I fired up the MAV, NASA proceeded to tell me that I needed to strip the MAV all the way down to bare bones. I needed to lose a ton of mass if I was going to make it all the way to the Hermes. Which meant I needed to lose all of the backup and safety gear. ALL of it.

At least now that I have actual email, things are going much faster. It’s almost real time communication. I told Deaton yesterday to put Lydia on the line, so we’ll see if he follows through today.

~~~ 

MISSION CONTROL: Hello Deaton here. Let’s go through the list again, Stiles. We’ve also added a few things.

ARES 4 MAV: Roger. I’m ready when you are.

MISSION CONTROL: The extra seats should be gone.

MISSION CONTROL: And the emergency booster rocket.

MISSION CONTROL: And the nose cone.

MISSION CONTROL: And the safety parachutes.

MISSION CONTROL: And the piloting panel.

ARES 4 MAV: AND THE PILOTING PANEL?!

MISSION CONTROL: Allison is going to remotely fly the MAV. You don’t need the panel. It’s too heavy.

ARES 4 MAV: Okay, okay. 

MISSION CONTROL: Stiles - this is Lydia. Transmitting from Houston. 

ARES 4 MAV: Good to hear your, err, see your words?

MISSION CONTROL: I’m helping with the calculations. This is going to work. Allison can do this. And Scott is going to catch you.

ARES 4 MAV: Has this ever been done before? Someone remotely piloting the MAV?

MISSION CONTROL: No.

ARES 4 MAV: Awesome. 

MISSION CONTROL: We aren’t losing you, Stiles.

ARES 4 MAV: I didn’t say you would.

MISSION CONTROL: The Hermes successfully rendezvoused with the Chinese probe. They have plenty of supplies. I’ll see you soon.

ARES 4 MAV: You promise?

MISSION CONTROL: I promise. 

**Log Entry: Sol 215**

This will be my last transmission. The MAV is barely recognizable. There’s just the hull, my launch seat, and some wires left. 

I’m thankful I got to talk to Lydia. I feel calm now. Whatever happens from this point is out of my hands. There is no crew I trust more, and if anyone can do it, the Ares 3 crew can. Goodbye Mars, I won’t fucking miss you.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=29c53wj)

Once Stiles was strapped in, Allison’s voice chimed in his ear.

“Hey, Stiles. I’m going to initiate the launch sequence here in about a minute.” 

“Nice of you guys to swing by,” Stiles joked as he took deep, slow breaths. From his seat, he could look out of the giant hole in the MAV and all he could see was Mars’ deep blue sky.

“Hold on tight, Stiles. Let us do the rest,” Allison spoke confidently. Stiles was suddenly grateful he didn’t have to man any controls himself. He was too nervous to keep his hand steady.

Stiles clamped his eyes shut as Allison began the countdown. He could hear the thrusters fire up, and the whole MAV started to vibrate. Stiles clenched his hand rests and he felt the blood drain from his face.

Once Allison said “1”, the MAV blasted forward and Stiles was thrown back against his seat. He tried to breath, but he felt like a he was being shoved underwater by an elephant. He gasped for breath as tears stung his eyes. He pried one eyelid open, and realized he was rapidly leaving Mars’ atmosphere. He could make out some twinkling stars and they seemed to be dancing in front of his eyes. He stopped trying to struggle for breath, and his whole body felt weightless as he closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

~~~ 

“Stiles? Stiles? Fuck, Scott. I think he passed out,” Allison yelled frantically over the comms as she kept her eyes glued to her screen. 

“It’s okay. Just tell me when he’s going to be in range,” Scott tried to sound calm in response, but his voice faltered. Scott was worried, but he couldn’t let it show. Everyone fed off of his energy as Commander and he knew it. He and Isaac were suited up and waiting by the north door, waiting to plunge out into the space above Mars and get Stiles.

Isaac was going to monitor the tether that was tied to Scott and pull Scott back in once he got to Stiles. This was going to be slightly more difficult to pull off if Stiles was not conscious. 

The adrenaline was coursing through Scott’s body, and he was tense waiting for Allison’s signal. Time slowed to a crawl and Scott reminded himself to keep breathing.

“Go, Scott. Go!” Allison finally yelled through the comms. Stiles was as close as he was going to get to the Hermes. It was now or never.

Isaac swung open the door, and Scott jumped out into space. This was maybe the fourth or fifth time Scott had ever done this, and on any other occasion he might have stopped to enjoy the immense view of the stars and the vast blackness of space. But there was no time for that now. Nothing seemed to matter except getting Stiles back.

He pulled his arms against his thighs and tried to keep his body as streamlined as possible. He fell forward rapidly, until he reached the end of his rope and was tugged forcefully to a stop. He could see the MAV pod and Stiles within it, because the nose cone had been removed. But Stiles was just out of his reach.

“Stiles! Stiles, I need you to wake up,” Scott desperately pleaded through his headset. A few tense seconds passed before Scott heard a cough through the mic. 

“Scotty, I bet you thought I was dead, didn’t you?” Stiles said in a sing-song voice. Clearly Stiles must have spotted Scott at that point.

“Get your ass up here!” Scott scolded him for wasting time. He watched as Stiles unbuckled himself and gripped the sides of the MAV. 

“Push as hard as you can, Stiles. I can’t get closer.” Scott stretched out his hands, bracing himself for the impact of Stiles hitting him.

“Whatever you say, _Commander_.” _At least his sarcasm is intact_ , Scott thought as he watched Stiles lean as far back as he could. Stiles started flying forward, out of the MAV, and he kicked off the lip of the open nose to propel himself towards Scott. 

Stiles outstretched arm close-lined Scott as their bodies hit each other. Scott groaned in surprise but flailed with his arms, struggling to grab hold of Stiles’ body. Scott’s arms locked around Stiles’ middle as Stiles wiggled around and clung to Scott. 

Scott finally looked Stiles in the eye, after 215 long days.

“NEVER, and I mean NEVER, do that again,” Scott said as he smiled at his best friend.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Stiles smiled and looked over his shoulder before he flipped off Mars.

“Pull us back, Isaac!” Scott commanded, triumphant. 

The pair of them hit the side of the Hermes gently and scrambled aboard. Isaac slammed the door shut, and all three of them walked quickly into the depressurization chamber. They waited for the beep, and then the inside door violently swung open.

Isaac had Stiles in a tight embrace, and he was joined by Kira, Malia and Allison. Scott couldn’t help but blink back a few tears at the sight of them all, _his crew_ , together again.

He helped Stiles pull off his helmet, and was immediately greeted with a strong gust of 215 days of built up body odor. 

“Jesus, Stiles. No showers on Mars?” Isaac held his nose, but didn’t pull out of the group hug.

“Nope. I’m definitely complaining to NASA about that,” Stiles said, almost hysterically. Kira was already examining a cut on his head, and Malia would not let go of Stiles hand so he had to take off the rest of his suit one-handed. 

Allison stepped back from the melee to squeeze Scott’s shoulder and nod approvingly at Stiles, whose smile was so big it seemed to split his gaunt but happy face. 

“Good job, Commander,” was all she had to say.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=2bph6g)

**Back on Earth**

The Hermes executed a perfect landing, and Stiles couldn’t stop smiling. Finally, something had gone right. All he could think about was eating a huge pile of curly fries, and sleeping for a million years. 

Okay, who was he kidding. He also thought about Lydia. He thought about what her hair would look like blowing in the wind, about how she would smile when she saw him disembark from the Hermes, about what she might say to him. 

All those months on Mars, when he thought for sure he was going to die, he tried not to think about her. He thought that would make survival harder, that she would break his concentration. But on the return trip to Earth, she filled his imagination. 

Luckily, he had taken a few showers on the way back and Allison had cut his hair, so he was feeling like today was a pretty good day to come back to Earth. To Lydia.

He disengaged from his seatbelt, and filed out of the ship behind Malia. He had to make sure to walk slowly so that he could get his Earth legs back, and the crew leaned on each other to walk down the ramp to the elevator.

The five of them waited silently in the elevator. Stiles could feel how tired everyone was, because the high adrenaline levels they had maintained as they approached for a landing suddenly dissipated as soon as the spaceship’s doors had opened. Stiles reached out and gripped Scott’s shoulder, letting him know that he appreciated everything he had done.

Then the elevator dinged and the doors flew open to let the chaos in. Cameras clicked away, and a crowd roared a cheer. Danny was up at a podium somewhere to their left, officially welcoming the Ares 3 crew home. Stiles could see Commander Hale and his crew seated in chairs right in front of Danny’s podium, and they all stood to clap as the astronauts exited the elevator. 

The five of them stepped out and walked forward as family and friends surrounded them. Stiles saw Malia’s dad sweep her up into his arms out of the corner of his eye. Mr. and Mrs. Yukimura had balloons in their hands as they greeted Kira with soft but happy smiles. Allison’s dad pulled her into a hug, and Gerard was walking quickly towards them to greet Allison.

Stiles heard Danny’s voice rise above the noise, as he thanked everyone for coming, and thanked Commander McCall for planning a successful rescue mission. Stiles turned away from the noise and felt a lump form in his throat as he searched for his dad. He ran into Mrs. McCall first, who pulled Stiles and Scott to her chest in a tight hug. 

“You boys scared me half to death,” she said in Stiles’ ear. Her voice waivered, and Stiles patted her on the back. Then he saw his dad over Melissa’s shoulder, and disengaged from the hug. Scott shot him a “help me” look and Stiles snorted before he walked up to his dad. 

“Dad, I-” Stiles started to say his rehearsed apology, but his dad stopped him by pulling him into a hug instead. His rough stubble scratched Stiles’ cheek, but Stiles didn’t even care. 

“I’m just glad you’re here, son.” Stiles signed, tears welling in his eyes as his dad silently accepted his apology for almost dying. He knew this moment would hit him hard, but he didn’t know forgiveness would come so easily. His dad never failed to surprise him. 

Then, he heard her voice.

“Stiles!” Lydia shouted as she waded through the crowd of onlookers. The large NASA badge around her neck reflected the sun and momentarily blinded Stiles. While he was blinking away the light, she kept walking and when he could see again, she was right in front of him. His dad nodded and smiled briefly at her, but he stepped back with his arms crossed to let them have some space.

Stiles couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He just gaped at her. 

“It’s been a long time.” Her upper lip quivered, but her voice didn’t. She smiled at Stiles, and everyone else faded away. It _had_ been a long time, but she looked exactly as Stiles had pictured her. A light breeze ruffled her red flowery dress, and she flipped her long red hair over her shoulder. 

“I, uh. I got you this,” Stiles offered lamely as he held up a tiny clear bag. It had a Mars rock in it. It was the only physical evidence of his time on Mars, since everything had been ditched to make the MAV fly high enough. He had smuggled the rock in his suit. He quickly tucked it away again, before anyone from NASA saw him.

She laughed then, a beautiful and cheerful laugh that Stiles was going to remember for a long time.

“You saved me,” is what he decided to say next. She stopped laughing, and finally vaulted forward into his arms.

The weight of her made Stiles feel like this was _real_ , like he had really accomplished something. He must have been grinning at her like a fool, but she kissed him anyway. 

Stiles stopped breathing as her tongue darted out to taste his bottom lip. Her nose slid against his as she pulled back, and Stiles let out a totally unplanned whine that originated low in his throat and grew until it vibrated past his lips. 

“You wanna go out?” He asked her, afraid to let her go.

She raised her eyebrow and pretended to think about it. “On one condition.”

“Name it,” Stiles said, emboldened. 

“You never go to space again,” she said as she touched his face.

“Done.” That was the easiest promise Stiles had ever made.


	4. Epilogue

  
[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=x4j3u1)  


**Epilogue  
**  
 **One Year Later**  


“Did Isaac say he’s bringing a casserole? The guy can cook?” Stiles asked incredulously as he spread the tablecloth out on the dining room table. 

“Oh, don’t be so mean. I’m sure it will be just fine. Besides, Danny is bringing cupcakes if all else fails,” Lydia scolded him as she went in the kitchen to get the paper plates and napkins. She came back and bent over the table to put out two piles of napkins, and Stiles reached over to squeeze her ass.

“Easy, Stilinski,” she laughed as she straightened up. Stiles smiled sheepishly but got back to helping. He counted his lucky stars (including all of the ones around Mars) that he and Lydia had come together as more than just best friends. He didn’t dwell on whether or not she would have gotten with him had he not been the one to survive Mars, because the what if game was pointless. All he knew was that he was the happiest he had ever been, in no small part thanks to his Ares 3 crew. And Lydia. 

Stiles and Lydia had agreed to host game night that week, and Stiles felt like it was his job to be sure to give everyone a hard time and keep the laughter going. He didn’t want anyone getting too sentimental considering this was the first party Lydia and Stiles were hosting in their house. _Their_ house. 

Sheriff Stilinski arrived first, with Melissa, and Stiles smiled as he heard Lydia greet them at the door. His dad inspected all of the rooms, and finally announced that he thought the house was fit for his son. Melissa slapped him on the arm and asked Lydia to forgive him. After all, the two of them had just been in last week to help move furniture and lay tile in the bathroom. 

The only thing that had changed was that Lydia had put up some pictures around the house. Stiles figured his dad must have especially appreciated the one with Lydia and Stiles and his dad at the beach in Hawaii last summer. That picture hung in the entryway to the house, and you couldn’t miss it when you walked in. They had taken a much needed vacation after Stiles had returned from Mars, and Stiles had asked for somewhere quiet that would involve a beach and lots and lots of water. 

Then Scott and Kira showed up with fried rice and vegetables, followed by Isaac and Allison with a casserole that didn't’ even smell half bad. Danny came with cupcakes as promised, and Finstock showed up yelling about how some lacrosse game was on TV and didn’t they have a functioning remote?! Parrish came with some Hawaiian rolls that he popped in the oven. Malia finally showed up with her new boyfriend too, but the guy seriously gave Stiles the creeps. And his opinion had nothing to do with the fact that Malia was his ex, thank you very much. He introduced himself as Theo, but Stiles planned on forgetting about him as soon possible.

Stiles kissed Lydia on the cheek as she set the food out on the table. He helped her by getting serving spoons and sticking them into dishes. Everyone happily grabbed plates to load up, and Stiles watched as Lydia made her rounds, making sure that her guests had drinks and were taken care of. 

They ended up playing charades, and Stiles drew “Astronaut” to act out, which everyone thought was hilarious. Stiles impersonated Scott’s space walk and the whole crew instantly knew who that exaggerated swagger belonged to. They played a more quiet game after that called codenames, and both teams were deep in discussion while Allison and Lydia gave the clue words. After the fourth round ended with Sheriff Stilinski proudly leading his team to victory, everyone enjoyed drinks and sat around reminiscing.

Stiles was so happy he could burst. He looked over at the Mars rock that was in a case next to the TV, and easily dodged all of Finstock’s questions about it. Lydia met his eye as he was arguing with Finstock about how the rock was definitely NOT martian, it was just a trinket he saved from his old high school. She winked at him, and Stiles went a little weak in the knees. This new life of his was never going to get old.

~~~ 

That night, after all their friends had left, Lydia waited patiently for Stiles to come to bed. She heard the faucet turn off in the bathroom and Stiles’ footsteps as he made his way across the hardwood floor to their bedroom. She had the lights dimmed, but she could make out Stiles’ figure as he shimmied off his boxer briefs and jumped on the bed.

“Tonight was so great. We have some great friends,” Stiles commented, staring at the ceiling.

“That we do,” Lydia said absentmindedly as she stroked down Stiles’ chest.

“And the casserole was good! Surprise! I hope they make it again because it was gone super fast.” Stiles continued to talk, so Lydia tweaked his nipple to get him to pay attention to what she was trying to insinuate.

“Nngh. _Lydia_ ,” Stiles groaned as Lydia continued to kiss down his chest. She mouthed gently at his cock, her lips gently tracing along his length until she kissed the spot right below his head where the sensitive muscles of his cock were gathered.

“Oh, I got it now.” Stiles voice changed from playful to sultry mid-sentence as he jumped up to straddle Lydia. He cupped her breasts through her shirt, and Lydia leaned into his touch as he gently messaged her.

“Good,” was all she said to coax him forward. He pushed her shirt up to her neck so that he could see her breasts. He rolled her right nipple with his thumb and pointer finger, and sucked on her other breast. She watched his mouth as he laved at her nipple. His tongue, shiny with saliva, darted at to lick her and she moaned slightly.

“Been horny all night,” she gritted out as she pulled Stiles forward for a kiss. Their tongues slid together in her mouth, and she loved how confident Stiles was now. He hadn’t been at first, unsure of whether to be rough and fast or slow and gentle. But now he could read her cues much better, and he would match her rhythm. Tonight was going to be more of a rough and fast night. 

She sat up so he could pull off her shirt. His hard cock slid against her stomach, but she ignored it to push his hands onto her breasts. He kneaded them as he returned to the kiss. He bit at her bottom lip, and pulled it forward. She groaned again before reaching between them for his cock. She tugged it a few times, letting his own slick coat her hand. He tried to say something, but she swallowed it with another kiss.

She rubbed her pussy through her underwear as Stiles slid down slightly to mouth her right nipple. He rolled her left, and she smiled wickedly at him.

“I think it’s okay now,” she said breathily, nodding towards his cock.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, but he was already lining his cock up to her pussy. He pushed forward slightly as Lydia nodded, but his cock caught on her dry pussy lips. He shimmied down so his face was right above her clit.

The look in his eyes was one of unabashed adoration, and Lydia could get drunk on that look alone. He ducked down shyly after she smiled to lick at her clit.

“Too low!” She exclaimed as the sensation overpowered her. Stiles giggled before he moved up to lap at the top of her clit. She sighed in pleasure and sank down into the bed as Stiles swirled his tongue around her clit. He licked down the folds of her pussy, and their room started to smell like sex. Lydia reveled in it. 

“Okay, okay,” she panted but he didn’t let up. He continued to lick slowly but precise circles against her pussy, and Lydia anxiously rubbed herself against Stiles’ mouth. She watched as perspiration broke out on his forehead. His eyes were focused on her pussy, and his top lip was wet with her. He continued like that until Lydia let her eyes fall closed, and he must have noticed because he sat up on his haunches. She gazed at him, and his smug smile told her that he was proud of how he had destroyed her. Lydia shivered when he withdrew, and her eyes implored him to do _something_. 

He straddled her again, this time easily sliding his cock into her pussy.

She groaned with pleasure as he filled her up. She was so thankful that she didn’t have to worry about condoms at the moment, even though she mentally went through a checklist of all the times she had taken her birth control just to be sure.

Stiles noticed she had spaced out and started massaging her right breast with his hand as he continued fucking into her.

“Come back to me, Lydia,” he whispered to her.

“I’m here,” she mused, “and you’re here too.” They both knew she was talking about Mars. It had been a year, but the ordeal haunted them both.

“Just keep going, please,” she pleaded as she gripped his muscular shoulders and pulled her down onto her. His body was slick with sweat, and he kept up the steady pace with his hips.

“I want you to come for me,” she said next. He breathed in sharply, and his thrusts started to speed up frantically. She knew he loved it when she told him to come. It wasn’t long before he shuddered and came inside her. His cock twitched inside her and Lydia felt heady with the pleasure that emanated from his body. She pushed him up to look at his face, and he started intently at her. She looked wonderingly at his freckles (he always seemed to have more than the last time she looked), before pushing him forward and out of her.

“Fingers, now,” she commanded. He willingly obliged after she rolled over onto her elbows and knees. He tilted her hips back to insert two fingers into her wet cunt and she moaned as she scooted back against his hand. 

He pushed forward with bent fingers, rubbing at her G-spot in a steady rhythm. She was lost to the moment, panting and writhing as Stiles kept at it. 

“You look so good right now, Lydia. I want you to fucking come,” Stiles said it in his deepest voice. All Lydia could hear was Stiles as she clenched her eyes shut.

Her pussy gripped Stiles’ fingers and she howled as she came. She blacked out for a minute, losing all track of time. When she came back to the land of the living, as Stiles sometimes said, she rolled onto her side as Stiles laid down next to her.

“That will never get old,” Stiles sighed into her ear as he kissed her forehead. 

“But you will,” Lydia teased as she pushed him gently on the shoulder.

Stiles stuck out his lip in a fake pout, and Lydia kissed it away. 

“The King of Mars can’t age. I will have to return to my rightful throne one day,” Stiles talked through his yawn, and Lydia bit back her laugh.

“I think the kingdom will be fine without you,” she said against his chest as she settled down against him. She breathed him in, and let him banter on about his royal knights and his huge castle and his alien dragons before she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my first Teen Wolf Big Bang! This fic was quite the journey. If you want to read about my Mars research, ask away. Also, I definitely recommend The Martian (novel). Feedback is welcome.


End file.
